pockets you have got! What is
there in them?"

"Something that concerns you, Rose-Pompon," said Dumoulin, gravely.

"Me?"

"Rose-Pompon!" said Ninny Moulin, suddenly, with a majestic air; "will
you have a carriage? Will you inhabit a charming apartment, instead of
living in this dreadful hole? Will you be dressed like a duchess?"

"Now for some more nonsense! Come, will you eat the olives? If not, I
shall eat them all up. There is only one left."

Without answering this gastronomic offer, Ninny Moulin felt in one of
his pockets, and drew from it a case containing a very pretty bracelet,
which he held up sparkling before the eyes of the young girl.

"Oh! what a sumptuous bracelet!" cried she, clapping her hands. "A
green-eyed serpent biting his tail--the emblem of my love for Philemon."

"Do not talk of Philemon; it annoys me," said Ninny Moulin, as he
clasped the bracelet round the wrist of Rose-Pompon, who allowed him to
do it, laughing all the while like mad, and saying to him, "So you've
been employed to make a purchase, big apostle, and wish to see the
effect of it. Well! it is charming!"

"Rose-Pompon," resumed Ninny Moulin, "would you like to have a servant,
a box at the Opera, and a thousand francs a month for your pin-money?"

"Always the same nonsense. Get along!" said the young girl, as she held
up the bracelet to the light, still continuing to eat her nuts. "Why
always the same farce, and no change of bills?"

Ninny Moulin again plunged his hand into his pocket, and this time drew
forth an elegant chain, which he hung round Rose-Pompon's neck.

"Oh! what a beautiful chain!" cried the young girl, as she looked by
turns at the sparkling ornament and the religious writer. "If you chose
that also, you have a very good taste. But am I not a good natured girl
to be your dummy, just to show off your jewels?"

"Rose-Pompon," returned Ninny Moulin, with a still more majestic air,
"these trifles are nothing to what you may obtain, if you will but
follow the advice of your old friend."

Rose began to look at Dumoulin with surprise, and said to him, "What
does all this mean, Ninny Moulin? Explain yourself; what advice have you
to give?"

Dumoulin did not answer, but replunging his hand into his inexhaustible
pocket, he fished up a parcel, which he carefully unfolded, and in which
was a magnificent mantilla of black lace. Rose-Pompon started up, full
of new admiration, and Dumoulin threw the rich mantilla